L'amour Vrai Attend
by nowhere-girlx
Summary: She loves him but she's engaged to someone else, hoping that there might be the smallest chance that he feels the same way about her that she does about him.
1. Chapter 1

**L'amour Vrai Attend**

**Chapter 1**

The weather is crisp and pleasant and a gentle wind tugs at Donna Paulsen's hair as she steps out of the cab and stares up at the large, shiny building in front of her. She brushes back the locks of hair that have fallen across her face, takes a deep breath and walks through the front door. She gives the doorman a quick smile and a nod as she passes him on the way to the elevator. All the while, her left hand seems almost as heavy as her heart.

It's seven a.m. and her mind is already at work ticking away and making long lists of things that she's due to complete during the course of the day. She walks into the shiny lobby of Pearson Hardman, her stilettos clicking against the polished floor. The office is scarcely populated – half the associated barely turn up before half past eight. She can see Rachel Zane typing away at her desk, her pretty face furrowed in concentration. She looks up and meets Donna's eye, smiling at her as a form of greeting. Donna raises her hand in a friendly wave, consciously telling herself to keep her left hand down and out of sight. She doesn't want anyone to know yet, not before she tells _him _about it first.

Her heart squeezes painfully in her chest and she's overwhelmed with a feeling of guilt, although she has no idea why.

She walks to her desk and plops her bag onto it, sliding into the chair behind it to organize the stack of mail on her desk. She sifts through the pile, dividing it neatly on the basis of who they were from and how important they were. She pauses as she places Harvey's mail in the different pile and fiddles uncomfortably with the ring on her left hand. The damn thing felt like it weighed a ton and it bothers her for some reason. She moves it halfway up her finger before shoving it back down again. _Damn rock._

Chris had proposed the night before and she'd accepted. The only thing that had really bothered her was the bomb he'd dropped after he'd got that ring on her finger. It was the same bomb she's prepared to drop on Harvey and she can feel her insides clenching nervously at the thought of how he'd respond.

She looks up suddenly at the sound of shoes on the polished floors. She even knows the sound his shoes make when he strides down the hall towards his office. It gives her a strange sense of comfort to know that she knows more about him than any of the other women he's dated know about him. He's wearing a charcoal suit this morning with a black tie that contrasts sharply with his crisp white shirt. He looks impossibly handsome in the morning light that's streaming into the office through the windows on the left. He looks every bit like the handsome, successful man that he is.

"Morning," she says, trying to keep her voice neutral. "You look awfully chipper." She isn't used to seeing him as early as eight a.m. He usually comes to work only around half past eleven. She notes the spring in his step, the smile on his face and immediately jumps to the conclusion that it meant he'd successfully closed another big client.

"Closed Cromwell this morning," he tells her, taking the mail she hands him. She self-consciously shoves her left hand beneath the desk, shielding it from his line of sight. He sifts through the mail, handing her a half that he couldn't be bothered with and strolls into his office with the other half in his hand. She sneaks a look at him over her shoulder and sighs. How on earth was she ever going to tell him that she was getting married and moving away?

"Donna?"

She's shaken out of her reverie and looks up to see Mike Ross strolling up to her. She forces her face into a smile, resolutely keeping her hand hidden beneath the desk. She's starting to feel like holding on to this secret of hers was a lot more trouble than it's worth.

"Mike," she says, keeping her eyes back on her computer screen. "If that's pure shock on your face, I completely get it. I have absolutely no clue what on earth he's doing this early in the morning in the office–"

Mike blinks. "Wait, Harvey's here already? Oh crap." His hand flies to his hair and he represses a groan. "I've got to get some stuff to finish now that he's here. I kind of need your help. I have no idea how to handle this particular big guy." He hands her a fat file.

Donna gives him a stern look as she flips through it. "Didn't they teach you any of this in Harvard?" She pretends to clap her hand to her mouth in shocked realization. "Oh, right, I forgot. You _didn't _go to Harvard," she whispers cheekily.

"I'm glad you bothered to keep your voice down," Mike whispers back good-naturedly. "Wouldn't want that getting around, do we?"

"I'm sure you don't," Donna replies cheerfully. "I'm sure Harvey doesn't, either. That means I don't." She pauses abruptly. "I'll make sure I don't tell Harvey you aren't done with your stuff yet," she tells him brightly.

Mike looks relieved. "Thank you so much, Donna. I owe you." He stops, looks confused. "I keep forgetting. Do you want double chocolate chip cookies or a cocoa coffee with sugar and whipped cream?"

"The second one," she tells him sweetly. "Make that a double sugar cocoa coffee with whipped cream. I'd like it preferably before lunch." She gives him a little wink as he hurries away.

He was a good find of Harvey's, that one, she thinks as she clicks away at her computer. What had Harvey told her to look out for on the day they were conducting interviews? That's right, another him.

She pushes back down on the guilt that's threatening to bubble to the surface. She chances another glance at Harvey, whose back was facing her as he talked away on his phone.

She knows how dependent Harvey is on her, how well they work as a team, how long they'd worked together and how loyal they'd been to each other. It didn't seem fair to hold on to such a large chuck of information. She glances down at the ring on her hand and fiddles with it. After another glance at Harvey, she climbs to her feet and walks to his office.

She raps sharply on his door, letting herself in as he turns around. He slips his phone back into his pocket and sits back down on the chair behind his desk.

"Donna, I need you to call up the Rowland brothers and confirm my meeting with them at noon today," he tells her, his eyes on the screen of his laptop. "Also, I'm going to need you to–"

"We need to talk," she says.

He glances up at her, a shade of amusement in his eyes. "Isn't that what we're doing right now?"

She walks up to him, places her hands on his desk. Looks at him in the eye. The rock on her ring glitters and she finds herself wishing he'd glance down and see for himself and understand, so she wouldn't have to speak the words that she didn't want to speak.

"I mean, we need to _talk."_ She stresses on the last word. When he continues to look confused, she sees that as a sign to plough on. "I'm getting married, Harvey," she says quietly.

She sees his features freeze and he immediately looks down at her hands that are splayed on the table in front of him. His brow furrows. She pulls her hand off and places it self-consciously behind her back. For a moment, neither of them speaks.

"I didn't even know you were seeing someone." His voice is quiet but neutral, not revealing any emotion.

"I wanted to keep things quiet," she says, turning away from him in the pretence of surveying the display of basketballs in his office.

"Well, congratulations." He tries to keep his voice light, although there's a surge of conflicting emotions inside him. She doesn't respond. There's a glazed, faraway look in her eyes as she gazes out of the window.

"At least one of us is going to be getting married," he jokes. She tosses him a look and sighs.

"That's not it, Harvey."

"You're eloping?" he asks, raising an eyebrow.

"I'm _moving,_" she tells him. She watches as his features freeze over in shock for the second time.

"Moving?" he asks quietly. "Moving where? When?"

"Pennsylvania." Her voice is so low he can barely hear her. Unconsciously, she fiddles with the ring again. "I'm moving in two months. He doesn't want a long engagement."

"Pennsylvania. Huh." He stares at her, his mouth dry. "You never really struck me as a Philly girl."

She looks at him, _really _looks at him and wonders what he's really feeling, whether he's feeling the same pangs of sadness that she's feeling. As she stood in his office, gazing at him, she's struck by the thought that she shouldn't be feeling this way. At all. She isn't supposed to be feeling so upset about leaving him, her boss, when she's getting _married_.

She waits for him to say something, _anything, _but his face is an impassive mask. Of course, he was a lawyer, it was his job to conceal emotions and take a logical stance on everything. It infuriates her because this was the all-or-nothing-moment for her, the moment when even the smallest indication from him that he wanted her to stay would cause her to throw her engagement ring out of the window and stay there with him.

But instead, all he says is, "I'm happy for you, Donna."

_I'm happy for you, Donna. _His words crash over her like a tidal wave and at that moment, she realises that she's projecting again, she's hoping he'd tell her how sorry he is that she's leaving and that it wouldn't be the same without her. His words cut her deep and she nods, lowering her gaze to the floor and says, "I'm happy for me, too."

Saying that, she leaves his office, her heels clicking furiously against the manicured tiles.

* * *

**A/N: I just couldn't with all these Donna/Harvey feels. Do read and review, I appreciate reviews more than anything! **


	2. Chapter 2

**L'amour Vrai Attend**

**Chapter 2**

He's never really had to think about what his life would be like without Donna. He'd almost lost her once, when Jessica fired her after that little incident with the memo that Hardman had planted with her name on it. He remembers standing beside the elevator as she walked towards it, head bent, hands clutching the cardboard box with all her things in it, staring at him with glassy eyes that said so much. He remembers his throat closing up, his heart faltering in his chest as he looked at her. _Please believe me, _her eyes seemed to say and he remembers with clarity the sting he felt in the corners of his eyes as he looked at her. He had wanted to believe her so badly but proof was proof, no matter what, and his years as a lawyer had taught him that. So he stepped back and urged himself to just let her walk past him, let her go, instead of thinking that there might have been another explanation to the whole thing.

He curses himself even today for merely stepping aside, for letting her walk away. Yet, now, he's doing the same thing.

But this is her personal life and Donna's getting _married _this time. He cringes at how it sounds in his head and for some strange reason completely unknown to him, he keeps picturing her in a white dress in a church, all radiant smiles and tinkling laughter, marrying a nameless, faceless stranger in a suit that could never rival the ones he owns, while he sits in his office in Pearson Hardman, the vacancy in Donna's chair outside his office feeling like a large, inescapable vacuum that threatens to overwhelm him.

It's so odd how the mere thought of Donna getting married and moving away could cause a torrential downpour of confused emotions inside him. Somewhere, deep inside, although he hates to admit it, it _hurts._

He turns his chair around and gazes at the tall buildings he can see from his window, the impossibly tall skyscrapers that make the city look so glamorous and untouchable. He feels so small at that moment, almost like a child hovering around the legs of adults and it befuddles him. He turns again only to see Donna at work at her desk, the damn ring glittering on her finger and he feels something akin to being punched in the gut.

That week without Donna was one of the worst weeks of his life. The possibility of coming to work _every single day _without her around makes him feel almost helpless. It's odd because he's Harvey Specter, he's the name that's automatically respected both among the New York elite as well as the intellectuals he usually moves with, he's the opposite counsel's worst fear when it comes to a face-off in open court, he's the attorney most judges regard with silent admiration and he's the face of New York's legal scene. It's odd because Harvey Specter who so very carefully and successfully separates his emotions from his line of work feels so utterly _broken _at the thought of his secretary getting married and moving away.

In retrospect, he realises that Donna's not just a secretary; after all these years they've spent working together, she almost feels like an extension of his own shadow. She's been there, so solidly, unquestionably _there_, and she's done extraordinary things such as taking the fall so his career wouldn't suffer and she's been the light to shine down upon him and pull him up even when he's spiralling downwards in some of the darker phases of his life.

It's absolutely normal that he'd feel this way about her moving away in a couple of months, after everything she's done for him, after everything they've been through together.

As he gazes at her, he thinks about what Jessica said when Donna was going to get fired the first time. "Think about how your life would be without her," Jessica had said and Harvey finds himself pondering over this statement that rings more true in this situation than it did in the previous one. This time, Donna's going away for good and there's no way he can stop her from leaving.

He thinks about what Jessica says long and hard. And comes to the conclusion that his life would be a complete, utter mess without Donna in it.

* * *

He's unusually preoccupied the whole day, but ensures that he still gets his job done by the end of the day. He manages to talk to clients in the same, confident, assured tone that almost always helps him get what he wants but in the moments when he's alone in his office, he feels strangely melancholy. Mike rushes into his office with news about a new case and new leads and Harvey listens to him before giving him vague instructions for him to follow up on. Donna sends people in to see him, but she avoids his eye as she peeps in to remind him about a thing or two. He nods and thanks her, all the while keeping his gaze lowered.

He's usually so good at picking up a shovel and digging a hole large enough for him to stuff his emotions into and bury them. But not this time. And damn, he hates himself for it, because if there's one thing Harvey Specter hates more than anything, it's letting his emotions befuddle him and cloud his rationale.

It's almost deserted in Pearson Hardman that evening and he lingers back a little longer just so that he can get his emotions in order before he passes Donna's desk and says goodnight. He sees her getting up, organizing her bag before she slings it over her shoulder. She turns and looks at him and their eyes meet on either sides of the glass door that separates her and she shrugs just a little bit, almost as if she's trying to say, _well, that's that._

He picks up his briefcase and walks out and the two of them walk towards the elevator, neither of them saying anything. He notices that she's fiddling with her ring again and tries to think of something witty to say just to make her laugh because the tension between them is suddenly too thick and he can't remember the last time it felt like this between them.

He's always been able to reach out to her and she's always been able to read him and they've constantly matched each other line for line, wit for wit, but he knows that there's a large, elephantine problem filling the half-foot distance between them that's just waiting to be addressed.

He wants her to stay but he knows (or rather, thinks) it's none of his business and that he should leave it alone and be happy for her but he can't lie to her and tell her he's okay with it when he's clearly not.

As usual, she picks up on his change in behaviour and decides to address it in that sharp, quick-witted way of hers. "You seem down. Bad day at the office?"

He glances at her as they step into the elevator and sees that there's a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. He decides that it's better for them both to revert back to their original, playful banter because it eases the tension between them, at least temporarily. "You should know," he points out and she flashes him a quick grin.

She reaches out to press a button on the panel and he sees that damn ring glittering up at him almost satirically and without thinking, he reaches out, wraps a hand around her wrist and gently guides her hand away from the panel. Her eyes flicker up to him as they stand in the closed, unmoving elevator.

"Donna," he says.

She doesn't say anything but just looks at him with her penetrable stare and he's sure she knows exactly what he's thinking.

"I know what you're going to say," she tells him.

He raises an eyebrow almost flirtatiously, daring her to guess. "Do you?"

"Yeah." She lets out a breath. "I plead guilty. I borrowed one of your records when you weren't at your desk. But, I was very careful with it and I replaced it. I should have known you'd find out, though," she adds cheekily, with an impish grin.

"You borrowed one of my records?" Harvey fakes shock as he looks at her.

"But I put it back," she insists. "And it was almost impossible to tell that it was, you know, taken out."

"Oh." He had to give her credit for it. He actually hadn't noticed.

She reaches out and punches a button on the panel and the elevator purrs to live and takes them on their journey downward. Harvey looks at her, notices the sharp contrast of her reddish-blond hair against her pale skin and is suddenly filled with the overwhelming urge to kiss her. It isn't the first time he's thought about kissing her, but this time, he yearns it almost as a means of comfort. The thought of her moving away in almost sixty days makes him yearn for the kind of proximity that something as intimate as a kiss could provide. She's talking to him in that light, bubbly way that she always does but he can't hear her because he's busy staring at her and just when he thinks he wants to lean in and plant a chaste kiss on her forehead, the doors of the elevator spring open and she's stepping out of the elevator, swinging her bag more securely over her shoulder and telling him that she's going to find a cab, go home, order in Chinese and watch old reruns of _One Tree Hill. _

He stares after her retreating figure and wishes he could touch her skin even for the briefest moment mostly because he's going to miss her more than anything and touching her would assure him that she wasn't just a dream that was going to disappear like a whisper. He craves her touch almost like a motherless child craves maternal love and these unfamiliar emotions are starting to throw his entire system into turmoil. He's going to miss her effervescence after she's gone, just like he's going to miss her wit and her humour and her intelligence and her unquestionable, eternal support.

"Think about what your life would be without her."

He thinks again, revelling in the knowledge of how utterly different everything would be without her. The knowledge that she's moving away hits him with the intensity of a hundred bricks and goddammit, it hurts. It really fucking _hurts._

* * *

**A/N: First off, I would like to thank my lovely reviewers **_**LivinNMyWorld, quisinart4, Atheniandream, unrequitedlove1, fseventh, Stella**_** and **_**yendyswong**_**. Your words of support mean SO much to me! I'm really going to try to update as fast as possible! Thank you so much again!**

**Do read and review again and any kind of constructive criticism is most certainly welcome! **


End file.
